


Cats In The Cradle

by fabricdragon



Series: soft as silk, stronger than steel [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Developing Relationship, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Established Relationship, M/M, Military Backstory, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rating May Change, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 03:14:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16631831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricdragon/pseuds/fabricdragon
Summary: Several people sit down to discuss John Watson's background with the classified military operation, and his experience with DID... and find out its far more complicated than anyone knew- including John.he may still be able to offer some assistance to Jim Moriarty...and possibly vice versa.





	Cats In The Cradle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mickie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickie/gifts).



Getting everyone together took more time than Mycroft had anticipated.  Once he handed over the details from the interrogation everyone was busy following that up, and of course it took days to find Sgt. Donovan’s ‘boyfriend’. Moran–and probably Moriarty, but Mycroft tried not to think about it– assisted in digging out members of the cabal, and information was passed back and forth with good effect.

It was a concern, but if Moriarty’s network could be turned to positive use? Well he would look the other way for a great deal: the British government dealt with worse.

Mycroft was torn about the issue of Sally Donovan.  He knew far too well how a manipulator could turn things against someone who truly believed they were in a relationship… but her hostility to Sherlock predated that. He put that aside until after the discussion of John’s background–perhaps it could be left to Sherlock’s decision.

Anthea insisted on coming as a guard–potentially embarrassing, but the other choices were far worse.

~

John had been torn between being relieved to finally get a chance to talk about things, and thinking it might be better to go on a long sabbatical somewhere without internet or cell signal.  Sherlock, as always, seemed to be ahead of him and  came back to Baker Street in the days before the meeting.

“I’m not running away,” John grumbled, “You Holmeses are the ones that  vanish when you don’t want to talk about it.”

“I thought you DID want to talk about it?” Sherlock said in that oh-so-innocent voice as he was lounging on the sofa.

“I do… and I don’t.” John sighed. “tea?”

“Of course… I missed your tea.”

And that was all that got said about it, but John could tell that Sherlock was half afraid he would bolt.

They ended up arriving at the meeting site before Sebastian and Jim–which Sherlock probably arranged– so for a few awkward minutes it was just the Holmes brothers, himself, and “uh Anthea.”

John sighed and made tea–at least she wasn’t ignoring him in favor of her Blackberry this time.

…

The intent and speculative look she was giving him made him wish she WOULD go back to texting.

~

They had arranged to meet at a secured building–nearly a safe house– used by British agents when reporting in.  It was large, secure, and the recordings could–supposedly– be turned off: at least it wasn’t crawling with Mycroft’s people.  Mycroft had been surprisingly reasonable: it was bizarre. Jim kept waiting for the other shoe to drop… that and fretting over Sebastian, who of course insisted he was fine.

He obviously wasn’t fine– _he hadn’t told me how injured he was at the safe house and look where THAT had gotten!_

Jim wanted to arrive early and check the location–Sebastian countermanded that with having a few of their better people do it.  It seemed clear…

Jim checked his knives for the fifth time and adjusted his sunglasses and walked in.

“I do trust you brought refreshments?”

~

Sherlock  at first glance thought that Jim looked like his ‘old self’ but there was a tension that had been absent even at the pool…

_Oh of course, he’s afraid for Sebastian._

“Jim…” Sherlock nodded politely, “Sebastian…”

Sebastian smiled warmly, “Sherlock…John, how are you two?”

John sighed, “He’s fine–I’m uncomfortable.”

“Fair’s fair Johnny boy: we all have a knife at each other’s throats, it’s just your turn… but what’s she doing here?” Jim peered over his glasses at Anthea.

“I’m his second.” Anthea nodded, “Each of you have other people holding information for you, and backing you up if need be…”

“Sherly backs Mycroft.” Jim raised an eyebrow.

Mycroft cleared his throat, “Anthea is my second at work, and as such if anything happened to me would be in a position to act, OR to speak to you about using your resources and ours together…”

Sebastian pulled a chair out for Jim and  nodded, “She already knows far too much, Sir, better to get it all settled so we know who has what information.”

Jim sat down and drummed his fingers, “So what’s holding YOU in check?”

Anthea raised an eyebrow, “me?”

“None of us like any of the rest of us having this kind of information–not really– and part of the security on that is that we all have a leash of some sort–where’s yours?”

Anthea looked over at Mycroft with a questioning look. “Sir?”

“Anthea has known about…” Mycroft gritted his teeth and then forced his jaw to relax, “has been aware of my  prior security issues and the situation with Magnussen for most of the duration, since she was assisting in retrieving his blackmail…”

Jim took off his sunglasses and looked around the room, “We all have things we cannot afford to become public and part of the safety check is that the other people know that–John has been a bit of the odd man out until now… so… I repeat: why should you get our information, when we have nothing on you?”

“I doubt I have anything worth blackmailing me about…” Anthea admitted, “Most of my life is spent handling high security issues…”

“And handing out false names, “John nodded, “Are you still using Anthea?”

“Yes, and yes.”

Sebastian spoke up suddenly, “Since I expect that like it or not  she already has some of our  information, I think she will have to stay involved, but agreed I want enough in exchange to reduce the risks.”

“As I said…”

“Real name and address.” Sebastian nodded, “Jim is quite correct that you would be the only one to know all of our pressure points, without having one of your own.” he shrugged, “put bluntly, if you don’t have blackmail material we need to know you can be gotten to mundanely.”

Sherlock nodded slowly, “Something never to be used, but… it’s a safety.”

“Mister Holmes?”

“Probably for the best.”

She matter-of-factly recited her address–pointed out that it was a secured building– explained politely that her nearest living relative was a cousin she hadn’t seen in years, and that her name was Lisa–she provided the full name  by handing around a copy of her secure ID.

“I don’t think I ever knew your real name.” Sherlock commented after looking at the  badge.

“You may have deleted it, I think it was mentioned once but that was–”

“I’m not thrilled with the sudden addition, Mycroft.” Jim’s voice was pleasant and reasonable, but he was dragging a finger around the top of his tea cup in a way that somehow managed to convey menace. “but what’s done is done: shall we get on with things?”

“We’re discussing MY secured information,” John sighed, “Its more my issue than yours–and as long as she’s properly signed off on the paperwork…”

Mycroft nodded and Anthea handed everyone a stack of paperwork.

…

“So let’s start with the basics,” John  nodded at Mycroft, “what do you know already?”

“what we’ve found out–and it was not easy to find– was that you were part of a program to train sleeper agents and… what may have been programmed assassins.  The program was shut down, and shortly after that was scrubbed from every file.” He raised an eyebrow, “And during that time period and shortly thereafter every agent we could find a record of met with fatal accidents, died in the line of duty, or committed suicide–except you.”

Sherlock was looking more and more upset, but  his voice was steady as he spoke, “John was wounded badly–that shot could have been lethal–and by his own statement was potentially suicidal when he was first back in London…”

“I thought m life was over.” John sighed, “After all I would never be able to practice again…and I’d lost my military career…”

“Johnny boy, can I point out that you HAVE been practicing?  You might not be a top level surgeon, but you are clearly not unable to practice…”

“My hand tremors leveled out once I got… back into action, as Mycroft noted.” John shrugged. “So… you want what information I have? Because the entire operation was compartmentalized.”

“That was the point.” Mycroft nodded, “I find it rather worrisome that this went on without my awareness, and that you…”

“Moved in with Sherlock?” John nodded, “Well I did warn him first thing to be careful of a soldiers reflexes and not wake me up suddenly.”

Sebastian frowned, “So was this sanctioned? Or did someone get a bright idea…?”

Anthea spoke up, “from what I was able to find, the initial idea was sanctioned, but it rapidly went beyond what was originally approved.”

Mycroft nodded and gestured for her to continue.

“the original idea that was proposed to the military was to… sort out the initial recruits that showed signs of, or had family history of, Dissociative Identity Disorder.  The proposal was to see if those recruits could be especially trained to manage and make use of what might otherwise be a disqualifying problem.”

Jim sat back, “really?”

“You would have been a potential recruit,” John sighed, “which is why I am shocked I didn’t realize…ah well.”

“Oh no I wouldn’t,” Jim grinned, “I don’t listen to orders worth a damn.”

Anthea cleared her throat, “at some point shortly after the project started… they seem to have moved past ‘theoretical’ and ‘seeing if we can’ to actively creating and using these individuals in the field–mostly in covert assignments.  It’s been quite difficult to find out more details but it appears the people pulling strings used at least a few of the agents on personal missions–unsanctioned– before the program was shut down.”

Everyone looked at John and he tried not to fidget. “I do trust you understand its… difficult to talk about? Not only because of the military and security but because it goes back to family issues…”

Sherlock hesitantly put his hand over John’s, “I don’t think any of us are in a position to judge.”

“I know I wasn’t one of the first people in the program, because they had  everything running when I got recruited.” John looked at the table, “I’d diagnosed myself with some kind of Multiple personality disorder, or… something like a weird manic depression, shortly after I joined the military program to train doctors.  I wanted to be a doctor, and the military offered a program to help….”

“Medical people often self diagnose–accurately or not.” Mycroft said quietly.

“Well I wasn’t in the psychology fields–those doctors are nuts.” John grinned, “dated one and she admitted that  most of the psych students had issues they were working on.”

John sighed and sipped his tea, “when I got into the program there were already doctors and therapists working on teaching people how to… deliberately switch? I guess that’s the easiest way to put it… like… self-triggering a switch, and how to bring yourself back.  We worked with hypnosis and self-hypnosis and…they pretty much agreed I HAD it, but that I also was far more integrated than their typical recruit.” 

John shrugged, “getting away from home? Into a steady environment with a constant challenge… it… helped me. the military training helped more–I learned how to focus.  By the time I got to the program… I found it very easy to pick up what they taught, and suddenly I could switch out those… moods? Yeah, call it moods… at will.”

“Handy.” Jim nodded, “I can do it, but I still get… unexpected switch outs.”

“I rarely do–rarely did even then.  One of the instructors said that I was nearly the perfect recruit, except for one flaw…”

“Which is?” Sebastian asked.

“Unlike the other people they recruited… none of my … alters? Fragments? Moods?” John shrugged, “Only one of them was separate enough for me to NOT know what I was doing when I woke up.  Everything else?  I’m aware, I remember… it’s just…that out of body experience some people get when your training takes over?” he glanced at Sherlock, “or when a part of you knows something is a really dumb idea but you do it anyway and you can’t quite say why?”

Sherlock winced, so did several other people.

“The other recruits… well there was a reason I checked that Jim could call up both recent and long term memories–his interrogation persona wouldn’t have had access to them.”

“But you…” Jim frowned, “you do? So that wouldn’t help you that much in interrogation…”

“No, I don’t block off information that well–it’s why I wasn’t as useful for covert work.” John shrugged, “So I went through the training, and I helped the other recruits learn some of the techniques, and… I ended up as a part time doctor in the program. The other recruits could spook some people: it was tough to get medical staff.”

“and then you went out in the field as a medic?” Sebastian considered carefully, “or… no… you were doing both.”

John nodded, “After it became clear I wasn’t a good candidate for some of the program I spent most of my time as a combat medic, and part time helping with the program–once or twice being on the retrieval teams when one of our folks got hurt or captured, because I could handle them.” John shrugged, “a lot of them would recognize me anyway.”

Mycroft looked rather relieved, “So when they scrubbed the program…”

“I was told the program was shut down,” John scrubbed his face with his hand, “and… I thought it was probably good–a good thing.  A lot of the techniques could really HELP people, but they weren’t… that wasn’t what their goal was and… I was rather relieved that it was shutting down.  I got shot about a month after that.”

Anthea nodded, “It explains the rather unusual combination of a military doctor with your… extraordinary skill set.  You were trained for a lot more, even if you didn’t end up using it.”

“Right.” John nodded, “and I helped the others sometimes… “ he glanced at Jim, “which is why I had some idea what Jim’s state of mind might be… “

Everyone took a break–it wasn’t discussed by it seemed needed– and had some food. 

Sebastian asked John, “Do you think you could go over some of that expertise with me?  because I had to learn how to cope rather… on the fly.”

“Certainly.” John agreed, “Its best if I do so… with Jim  and you… and… well anyone who will be involved all together.”

Jim nodded, “not sure how much more help on my side of things you can be,” he slid his eyes sideways to Anthea, “Unless you  hit one of my triggers I’m fairly well put together these days.”

Sebastian snorted.

“I am!  I was under extraordinary stressors,” Jim growled, “You were kidnapped!”  he glared at Sebastian, “Twice in a row!”

“The rapid switching is usually a sign of extreme stress and… isn’t good for you.” John said pointedly, “at least  most of your personae seem to be… aimed in the same direction–we had a few lads who… weren’t.”

Sherlock was being very quiet, uncharacteristically so, and it seemed to hit everyone at once… first Mycroft looked over and then Jim and then John…

“Sherlock?” Mycroft kept his voice calm, but something was very wrong.

“I need your gun, John.” Sherlock held out his hand.

John frowned and handed it over, “don’t shoot out any walls here, its not ours.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Sherlock sighed and handed the gun to Anthea. “We have a very serious problem.”

“We do?” Sebastian frowned and looked around.

“We do.” Sherlock nodded. “Because John is convinced he knows everything he was involved with”

“I do!” John puzzled at him, “why wouldn’t i?”

“Because you said yourself: you were part of the program, and while you may be mostly integrated and controlled; ONE aspect of your personality is separate enough that you don’t remember…”


End file.
